


Storia

by MidoriKurenaiYume



Category: Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Betaed, Established Relationship, Explanation of Menstual Cycle, F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Humor, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 15:29:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9663611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidoriKurenaiYume/pseuds/MidoriKurenaiYume
Summary: Gilgamesh doesn't understand his daughter. Arturia helps.(can be considered part of the same universe as Words (Kotonoha))





	

…

She was sitting on the couch, facing him, and her manner of speech was as calm and composed as usual.

“And this is how the menstrual cycle works,” she finished, nothing in her relaxed expression giving away the fact that she had just described the anatomy of the female body in explicit detail.

Gilgamesh merely lifted an eyebrow.

“And how is that related to our daughter having currently locked herself in her bedroom and refusing to come out?”

Arturia sighed almost inaudibly.

“As I just told you, it’s not simply blood that leaves the body. There are tissues that come off the uterus, and that is extremely painful. It’s nothing less than having an open wound underneath your stomach, and the pain can be as severe as someone plunging a knife into your insides – and twisting it repeatedly, _for days_.”

Understanding the slight change in his questioning gaze without him needing to say a word, she replied, “I have had years of practice to hide the uncomfortable feeling that the menstrual cycle produces, that’s why I never behaved like Phoebe.” She narrowed her eyes. “But I believe I can correctly assume that you remember what childbirth was like?”

He deadpanned, “That was when you called me a selfish oaf and swore you would never sleep with me again.”

Her small smile was a little apologetic.

“I already told you, I wasn’t in my right state of mind – and I made it up to you.”

He smirked slightly.

“ _That_ , you did, and I am not unreasonable, Arturia. I could see that you were going through the worst pain of your life.”

He sighed, bringing a hand up to touch his forehead and closing his eyes briefly, as if he was lost in thought. “If Phoebe is going through a pain similar to that, then I will endeavour to be patient.”

Arturia smiled at him a little more brightly.

“She will be grateful for it, you know. It’s not her fault she’s feeling pain, nor is it her fault she’s being moody because of it.”

She stood up and offered him her hand. “Come with me.”

Intertwining their fingers, he followed her out of the room, knowing that she had something in mind.

As they reached the kitchen and she filled a pot with water, she continued, “When the water boils, put it into this bottle and take it to Phoebe. I know,” she prevented him from interrupting her, “you were right in scolding her earlier for getting oil paint all over the floor, but she didn’t do it on purpose. Bring her the hot water bottle as a sign of truce, and if you ask her, she’ll explain to you what happened.”

He narrowed his eyes at her slightly.

“You already know, don’t you, Arturia?”

She gave him one of those small, mysterious smiles he loved so much, and kissed him on the lips briefly but passionately.

“I do. Go speak with our daughter and you’ll find out as well.”

A teasing light appeared in her green eyes, even if for just a second. “Also, if you don’t mind, please leave the door open. I wouldn’t want to miss the scene.”

…

A few minutes later, Gilgamesh was knocking at his daughter’s locked bedroom.

“Little one? Open the door.”

After a short period of silence, there was the sound of the key turning in the lock and the door opened a chink. Crimson eyes – identical to his own – peeked at him warily.

Gilgamesh held up the hot water bottle. “Your mother said you might like to have this. It will help with the pains.”

Slowly, Phoebe opened the door fully and took a step forward to take the bottle, and then she moved back, to let him in. She went to sit on her bed and as soon as she put the hot object right underneath her stomach, an expression of relief settled on her features. She smiled at him, a little shyly.

“Thank you, Dad.”

Avoiding the cans filled with paint that were scattered everywhere in the room, he reached her bed and sat down next to her.

“Tell me what happened earlier, with the oil paint.”

She tensed up immediately and avoided his eyes in embarrassment, shifting in her spot and pretending she was focused on the water bottle that she was now holding against her belly, but he was not deterred. “Tell me, Phoebe.”

A bit awkwardly, Phoebe took one of her canvases, which for some reason she had hidden under the bed, and slowly handed it to him, turning it over so that he could not see what was on it.

“Happy birthday, Dad,” she said, guiltily staring at the floor.

Oh, that was right. It was his birthday. It was something that had completely escaped his mind.

No wonder Arturia had seemed both mysterious and slightly teasing in her tone.

Inwardly shaking his head at himself, he turned the canvas to stare at the drawing. His eyes widened as he saw it.

On the formerly white surface, thirteen-year-old Phoebe had skilfully drawn a family portrait of the three of them. There was Arturia and him, sitting on two armchairs next to their living room fireplace, and there was Phoebe herself, standing between them.

Contrary to how portraits usually were, no one was looking out of the drawing; they were all looking at _each other_ , the warmth in their gazes impossible to miss.

It was a small, sweet portrait of their family.

So that explained it. His little Phoebe had made a mess on the floor in order to finish this beautiful painting in time for his birthday.

In a small voice, the girl said, “I didn’t know what to give you, Dad. You already have everything, and I know that this is nothing much–”

“This is perfect, Phoebe,” he breathed slowly, admiring every line of the portrait, before finally tearing his gaze away from it and staring at his daughter, who wasn’t meeting his eye. “I shall be proud to hang it up in my office.”

Her head snapped up to face him in surprise.

“But Dad…! In your office you have all those really expensive and famous paintings…!”

He actually smiled, leaning forward to kiss her on the temple. In doing so, he met his wife’s gaze, who was giving him a knowing look from outside the small room – since he had not closed the door, as per her request.

“ _This_ is far more precious to me, little one.”

…

**Author's Note:**

> 'Phoebe' means 'shining one', that's why I chose it (and why Gilgamesh did as well :P).  
> This story can be considered a sequel to the one-shot Words (Kotonoha); its title comes again from a pretty Kalafina song, their 5th single and part of the album 'Red Moon' as well ;)  
> Heartfelt thanks to Jolanikati for the beta work!!!  
> Thanks for reading :))


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